


Pinched Time

by stephanericher



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Established Relationship, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-11 00:40:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10451139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: There doesn’t seem to be anything to say, anything adequate springing to Tatsuya’s mind—a “hey” or “how have you been” is too trite, and he doesn’t have to say he’s missed Wei or how long it’s been, doesn’t know if he should reach for Wei first and make sure he feels real.





	

**Author's Note:**

> for 4/11 liuhimu
> 
> also someone prompted me like 6 million years ago with 'liuhimu in la together' and. well. hopefully this is better late than never.....

“Come visit?” Tatsuya had asked two days before graduation, half-turning back to look over his shoulder at Wei, fake levity that even Wei can probably see through in his voice.

“Yeah,” Wei had replied almost immediately, grabbing Tatsuya’s hand and squeezing it, and Tatsuya’s throat had tightened just as he’d felt like he could exhale, that Wei was willing to commit to the possibility of keeping them going.

But they had graduated and gone their separate ways, and then there had been no follow-up to the exchange, no concrete promise. Tatsuya’s still expecting it to fade into all the other things they said they'd do but ran out of time for, like winning the winter cup together or going to a proper hanami or cutting class all day and standing on the riverbank like they’re in some manga, and the more often they skype the more Tatsuya feels as if they’re drifting apart like continents on opposite sides of a mid-ocean ridge. It doesn't help that there’s an ocean physically between them; Wei’s back in China training with a pro team already, one of the ones that had been scouting Atsushi, and Tatsuya’s back in the states doing nothing but waiting for school to start.

The midsummer heat wafts through Tatsuya’s bedroom, somehow increasing its pressure without any wind; Tatsuya drops his chin to the air mattress (a welcome alternative to the twin bed he barely fits on in any situation, but especially when it’s this fucking hot out and it keeps him close to the ground). On the computer screen, Wei smiles and reaches his hand up somewhere above the camera to adjust the monitor.

“I have a week off at the end of August,” Wei says. “If the invitation's still good.”

(As if it wouldn't be.)

“If you still want to,” Tatsuya says.

“Course,” says Wei, his smile softening into something quieter.

They don’t say anything for a few more moments, until the physical distance seems to tie itself in knots and stretch itself out, and Tatsuya won’t say it out loud but he wishes Wei was here already.

* * *

The airport is loud and full of tourists, most of them clearly lost, staring at the ceiling like it’s got all the answers. Tatsuya waits by the cutoff; he’s double-checked the flight arrivals several times to make sure he’s at the right terminal—Wei had texted him he’d landed a while back, but there’s still customs (this time of year the line’s got to be huge) and whatever route he has to take, and Tatsuya knows his own impatience is making this seem like it’s taking longer than it actually is. Another group of people is headed toward the exit; he can see them on the other side of the glass; they’re all too short. Tatsuya looks down at his phone again, but there’s no update. He refreshes his texts again, looks up again, and then, ducking under the exit, is Wei.

He’s just as tan as he’d looked in pictures or on the screen; his muscles look more defined than Tatsuya remembers, and he hadn’t really noticed but Wei’s hair is getting a little long, brushing over his ears in a way it hadn’t in his memory. The same ragged duffel bag he’d taken on every trip in high school is dangling from his shoulder (he’d said he hadn’t checked any bags and only he would travel this lightly) and he’s maybe gotten even taller (or maybe it’s the short people around him). Everyone is staring up at him, moving aside; in a few months Tatsuya had forgotten how Wei has that effect. He reaches up a hand to wave; Wei’s already seen him and he starts to walk faster.

There doesn’t seem to be anything to say, anything adequate springing to Tatsuya’s mind—a “hey” or “how have you been” is too trite, and he doesn’t have to say he’s missed Wei or how long it’s been, doesn’t know if he should reach for Wei first and make sure he feels real. Wei decides for them; he’s barely within reach and he’s already reaching out, pulling Tatsuya in for a hug.  
Wei smells like airplanes and disinfectant and strawberry candy; Tatsuya’s almost crushed against his chest and that definitely is more muscle mass, not that Tatsuya minds at all how firm he feels through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. Wei’s arms are tight against his back; his skin is warm and in the intense air conditioning of the airport it feels really, really good. They stay like that until Tatsuya starts to become aware of the rest of the airport moving around them, the murmur of voices and the shuffle of feet and the sound of dragging suitcases.

Wei pulls back, looking down into his face, smiling brighter than a neon billboard.

“Hey, you,” he whispers, and now it feels so right to hear.

“Hey,” Tatsuya echoes.

Then Wei leans back down and kisses him, soft and light and quick, before really pulling away and bringing one hand up to Tatsuya’s shoulder. He looks like he kind of wants to do more, but Tatsuya would really not like to go down that slippery slope and end up getting kicked out of and banned from the airport (on the other hand, that would mean Wei couldn’t go on his return flight and they’d have to extend his visit and that’s not really a net negative).

* * *

They have a few hours before Tatsuya’s parents get home from work, which is probably for the best. All Wei wants to do is take a nap (he’s tired and sore from the long plane ride, crammed into a seat where his knees barely fit) and he won’t be up for much until later. It also gives Tatsuya a few hours to worry, which he knows he really shouldn’t—his parents had been altogether fine with the idea of Wei coming to stay with them; they’re not opposed to the idea of him as Tatsuya’s boyfriend; they want to like him.

“Hey,” says Wei, half-asleep from the mattress. “Come here. You sleep, too.”

Sleep does seem like a better alternative to worry, if he can get there. He crawls under the blanket and Wei pulls him in, their heads on the same pillow almost like the way it had been back in one of their high school dorm rooms, and Tatsuya falls asleep thinking about how it already seems like so long ago.

They’re both awake but kind of groggy by dinner; Wei’s acting a little bit like a nervous cat trying to feel out how he should act around Tatsuya’s parents, complimenting the house and consistently looking from one of them to the other. Tatsuya would like to think his parents aren’t intimidating, but he hasn’t really introduced anyone to them since Taiga and Alex, and that was ages ago and not in this context.

“So, Liu-kun,” says Tatsuya’s dad. “Tatsuya says you’re a basketball player?”

“Yeah,” says Wei. “I’ve been drafted by Guandong in the CBA. The season doesn’t start until October, but I’ve been training with them since I got back.”

“So, no college?” says Tatsuya’s mom.

“Not for now,” says Wei.

Tatsuya’s mother thankfully doesn’t ask if he means later or never.

“The chicken is really good, Himuro-san,” says Wei.

His frankness is as clear to Tatsuya’s mother as it is to Tatsuya; though they all know it’s an attempt to change the subject Tatsuya’s mother accepts it with a smile.

Tatsuya’s parents shoo them out onto the back porch after dinner and they sit on the steps, Tatsuya in between Wei’s legs. The sun’s already set (even though it’s still hot as hell, it’s late in the summer and the days finish all too quickly, a constant reminder that it’s nearly over) and the moon’s not in the right phase to be out right here; there’s nothing but deep sky airbrushed with clouds and smog.

“Your parents are like, normal,” says Wei. “They’re easier to read than you.”

Tatsuya laughs. “Are you saying I’m abnormal?”

“Yes,” says Wei. “How did you come from them?”

“Magic,” says Tatsuya.

Wei pinches his arm. Tatsuya leans his head back against Wei’s shoulder and looks up. The smog and light pollution effectively blocks out whatever stars they’d be able to see from here. It’s weird how he’d so quickly gotten used to Akita, adjusting his eyes to the night sky and seeing the constellations pop out against the clear navy sky, how weird it had been when he’d gotten back to just see this again.

“They liked me, though?” says Wei.

“Yeah,” says Tatsuya. “You’d know if they didn’t.”

Wei kisses the back of Tatsuya’s neck. They only stay out a bit longer; when it’s dark out it’s easy for the sleepiness to catch back up to them.

* * *

Wei wants to do everything while he’s here, some kind of condensed California Guidebook version of a visit (Golden Gate Bridge! Yosemite! Death Valley! Every beach! The Hollywood sign!), and it’s hard to get out of him what he really wants to do and what he thinks would just be kind of cool (and whether he knows how big the state is or not). It’s probably something they should have talked about before Wei’s visit, but neither one of them is big on planning so even if they’d meant to they wouldn’t have.

“I mean,” says Wei. “My next-youngest brother wants me to bring him back a palm tree. And I want to go to the zoo. And we’ll figure out the rest later?”

That seems fair enough to Tatsuya, if he gets another cup of coffee before making the drive down to San Diego. He’s not sure about the palm tree (how would Wei even declare it at customs? Bring it back in a suitcase?) but the zoo is doable.

Wei stares intently out the window at the traffic (it’s not that bad for late summer) and halfway down he reaches his hand across the center console to hold Tatsuya’s. They hit up a drive-through Starbucks for more caffeine when they’re nearly there, and Wei frowns at the cup in his hand as they drive off.

“What?”

“You guys have drive-through Starbucks?”

“Is there any other kind?” says Tatsuya.

Wei snorts. “You went to a regular Starbucks with me in Akita.”

“They all have a drive-through window here,” says Tatsuya.

“You’re pulling my leg.”

“Am I, though?” says Tatsuya.

“Yes,” says Wei (but he pulls out his phone and Tatsuya is quite sure he’s consulting the internet on this matter).

Wei insists on taking a roll of selfies at the zoo, with the sleeping big cats in the background, the snakes in the reptile house, the polar bears and the penguins; Tatsuya doesn’t really mind because it means putting himself back under Wei’s arm and leaning in a little bit closer than is necessary for the shot (but it gets more of the background in). He still fits the same, even though Wei’s body is bigger (he definitely has gotten taller, too), even though that’s not the kind of thing he should be worrying about—so he takes an extra selfie of his own, in front of the information stand, in the shade where it’s a little bit cooler and where he can justify pressing his body against Wei’s like that just a little bit more.

* * *

They play basketball in the park the next day, early in the morning before the sun has time to scorch the asphalt and heat up everything too much. It’s harder now; from the time Tatsuya checks Wei the ball he can already tell he’s gotten better; he takes it with more confidence and he’s faster on the break. He’s drives more aggressively to the net, blowing past Tatsuya the first time because Tatsuya’s just not expecting it. Wei’s always had the size to push his way past everyone but he never has; he’s always played his role as defensive forward, only getting aggressive trying for a rebound or a block and then dishing the ball out to someone else. Even when they’d gone one-on-one before, Wei had always played cautious.

Tatsuya screens him out the second time; his height puts him at a serious disadvantage but he gets right back in Wei’s face about it, backs off, and grabs the ball as soon as Wei dribbles. Wei’s back in his face the other way, trying to block him; Tatsuya ducks around and under but Wei’s gotten faster, too; it takes him longer than it should but he does make the shot.

He wins, but it’s that much harder and, while ultimately Tatsuya feels good about it a large part of him is still nervous. Maybe he should have gone pro, too; the CBA scouts had been interested in him; he could play with or against Wei; he could have gotten this much better already but he’s stagnated just staying here and playing streetball. He reminds himself about college, that he’s going to have that soon enough and he’ll have tough competition to live up to, too. And this shouldn’t be about him; it should be about Wei getting this much better, and that on its own merit, not some sort of insecurity contest.

Wei kind of knows what he’s thinking; they’ve talked around this topic often enough that there’s no way he doesn’t.

“You did good,” says Tatsuya.

“So’d you,” says Wei. “It’s…”

He trails off; Tatsuya waits. Then Wei shrugs.

“I don’t know how to say it but, you know. You’re still damn good, so don’t worry.”

Okay, Wei totally knows. Tatsuya bites the inside of his cheek. Wei sighs.

“That’s…damn it. Can I kiss you? Would that…?”

“I’m not mad at you,” says Tatsuya. “You don’t have to ask.”

“I know that,” says Wei.

He leans down and touches his lips to Tatsuya’s; it’s a reassurance equal to both of them, one Tatsuya hopes they won’t need someday soon.

* * *

By the last day, they still don’t have the palm tree for Wei’s brother.

“Would a leaf be acceptable?” says Tatsuya. “A photo of you next to a palm tree?”

“I don’t think so,” says Wei.

They end up searching around on the internet about what to bring back on an international flight, giving up, and going to a flower shop. They sell tiny potted palms, all crowded on a shelf and actually pretty cute. The salesperson doesn’t know anything about bringing them on flights, but she does offer them seeds.

“That’ll do,” says Wei. “If they don’t let me bring them back, that’s that, but if they do then the seeds won’t get crushed.”

Tatsuya walks through the aisles while Wei pays, passing the half-dead-looking potted geraniums and bamboo sprouts in cheesy ceramic pots.

“Hey, Tatsuya!”

Tatsuya walks back toward the front. Wei’s got the plastic shopping bag with the seeds for his brother on his wrist; his other hand is carrying a small pot with two sunflowers inside.

“How are you planning on getting those on the plane?” says Tatsuya.

“They’re for you,” says Wei.

It takes half a second for Tatsuya to speak. “Oh.”

Isn’t he, as the host, supposed to be the one giving Wei a gift? Wei holds the pot out and Tatsuya takes it, carefully not knocking the flowers around.

“Thank you.”

“I wish I could stay for longer,” Wei says. “And this isn’t, like, some kind of weird substitute for that, but.”

Oh. Tatsuya bumps his shoulder, and Wei looks down at him.

“You can come back,” Tatsuya says (and it comes out so much easier than the first invitation had, and doesn’t feel nearly as vague).

“You can come visit me, too,” says Wei. “When you have a school break or something. Think about it?”

Tatsuya smiles. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” says Wei. “Good.”


End file.
